“Whose house, I mean. I hope it was a good man’s.”
“Dunno ’bout that, sir. I didn’t see him, nor I didn’t go in.”
“But you said you stopped there?”
“So I did.”
“How could that be if you did not go in?”
“My cracky! ain’t you green? S’pose I’d gone in, how long d’ye s’pose I’d been guv to git out?”
“I don’t understand you, bub.”
“Any more’n I do sich a cabbage as you. I reckon there’s a way o’ stopping at a gentleman’s house without bothering him wid your comp’ny.”
“How can that be?” asked the wondering deacon, believing the boy was guying him. “How could you stop at a man’s house without seeing any one or they seeing you?”
“Slept under th’ covin’, mister.”